Save My Marriage
by RedheadScorpion
Summary: After seeing a sexologist, Sookie takes matters into her own hands in a desperate attempt to reignite the spark in her marriage to husband Eric, even if it means shedding some clothes and acting provocative in the process. Desperate times call for desperate measures. But what is really going on with Eric? And what happens when they find themselves in the throes of danger? Lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**Save My Marriage**

6 months.

6 very long, very torturous months since my husband, Eric, and I last had sex.

I don't think I'm the one with the issue here, but our marriage was really in a funk. I had no idea what to do about it, or how to bring it up with Eric, but I found myself missing and craving for that side of intimacy. Eric and I had met in high school, he was the first boyfriend I've ever had, and after graduation we quickly decided to move in together. Then out of a spur of the moment kind of thing, we decided to get married. We have been married for two years and three months now and, you bet, I was counting.

I got home from work, where I waitress full-time at Merlotte's Bar, and got changed out of my work uniform.

I wanted to try something a little different tonight, so I put on my best clothes. I put on a pair of ruffled black lingerie; a matching bra and panty set that was a whole lot sexy, and a little bit cheeky as well. Ruffling through my closet, I pulled out the last dress I remembered wearing that Eric had seemed to like a lot. It was a nice, sexy one; Low cut and square at the neckline to show off a little bosom, and it was sleeveless. It was tight and a fire-engine red. To complete the look I put on red emerald earrings and red screw-me-please high-heels. Looking at myself in the mirror, I felt my confidence kick up a notch. I felt I looked great. It was only a matter now of seeing what Eric's reaction was to me wearing it.

I got started on dinner. Eric would be home in two hours and if I didn't have a hot meal ready by then... I sighed helplessly and entered the kitchen. K_öttbullar, _Swedish meatballs were Eric's favourite meal, so I got the breadcrumbs out, some ground mince, and got cooking. I thought it might make the night go better if I brown nosed a bit, so that was exactly what I did.

I loved my husband. I had been crazy about him all throughout high school and, truth be told, I still was. The first year was marital bliss... but now, it all sort of fizzled out. Eric has a very demanding job as Sherriff, which meant he got up early, and came home late. I suppose our sex life fizzled out due to his stress from work and him not feeling in the mood to get down and dirty. Now, every time he comes home from work, it is a battle to even get him to open up and tell me about his day. We have fallen into this routine where we work, come home, eat dinner in front of the television set where Eric more than often falls asleep on the couch afterwards. We don't talk much anymore. We don't kiss much anymore. Our marriage was falling apart and it completely broke my heart. I don't really understand the cause of it. We loved each other. I was 95 % positive Eric still loved me as well but we just need... help. I have suggested marriage counselling to him on a few occasions but each time I brought it up it turned into an argument.

_Why do we need counselling, Sookie? Are you saying something is wrong here? I am fine. You're fine. Everything is fine._

Ha... everything_ is not _fine. He doesn't want to fix it, he can't see anything needing to be fixed, so I took matters into my own hands. I sought out a counsellor for myself, Pam. She's a sexologist. A sex advisor, if you will. She said in order to get the spark back, we really have to dedicate a few hours in the evening to have intimate conversations with each other. So what was the best way to have it, other than sitting at the dinner table and mingling over supper and not in front of the television, which only offers distractions?

Just as dinner was cooked, I heard Eric's car pull up into the drive way. I set the table as quickly as I possibly could, even going so far as to light a few scented candles to make the atmosphere all the more intimate. Wine glasses were filled, the salt and pepper shakers were set on the table. Pam had suggested candles, she had told me to surprise him by making him his favourite meal and doing something completely unexpected for him. I dished out dinner, set it on the table, and looked it over, making sure everything was perfect. Then I made quick readjustments to myself. I put on a quick smear of bright red lipstick, tied my hair up into a messy bun, and sat at my end of the table, waiting. The heels I was wearing were the ones Eric had purchased for me on our honeymoon. He had said they bring out my tanned skin, and that they made my legs look longer and lean. He also said me in heels made him want my legs wrapped around his waist. Closest they've been to him is when we pass each other in the bathroom, trying to get ready in the morning for work.

I heard the door open, I heard Eric toss his keys down on the cabinet by the front door, and I sat up straighter in the chair, feeling my pulse scatter with anticipation for him to see what was waiting for him. Quickly I made sure my lipstick was still in place, praying tonight would end well. Tonight we would hopefully have sex again and find that spark that was lacking in our marriage.

"Sookie?" He called in a confused voice. He must've smelt the food. I didn't blame him for being confused. The last hot meal I had ever fixed him for the past few months has been frozen dinners from the freezer section of the grocery store, nothing homemade.

He turned around the corner while unbuttoning his jacket, and then he halted in the doorway as he took in the room curiously. He glanced over at me quickly and then turned away, getting down to unfastening the buttons on his jacket again. It took everything within me not to cry, but I managed to hold them back. I didn't want him to see me cry. To be honest, I was past all desperation. I stood from my chair in complete horror as he disappeared back out into the hallway with his jacket draped over his arm, panicking about what I was going to do with all this food? I could always drop it into my brother, Jason, if Eric didn't want it. Jason was always happy for food. Yeah, I could take it to Jason and then I could ask if I could stay there the night.

With a defeated sigh, I started collecting the silverware back up just as Eric entered back into the room, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows on the baby blue button up shirt he was wearing.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly and I stopped.

I sat the silverware back down and blinked up at him. "I thought that... I mean I didn't know if you were... Oh, nothing," I finally answered, because the look he was giving me just continued to get more confused. "I made your favourite," I said, and I waved my hand ceremoniously at all the food.

"Yeah, I smelled it when I came in. Smells good."

I just nodded and watched him as he moved to sit down. He pulled out his chair, sat, and plucked open the collar of his shirt, loosening it around his neck so that I caught glimpse of all those delicious muscles in his throat and neck. I didn't think physical attraction was an issue for me. I still felt very much attracted to Eric, as much as I had in high school. Whether he still found me attractive, well, that was another question altogether. I wasn't brave enough to ask.

I observed him as he glanced around the table, licking his lips slowly. Then he picked up his cutlery, and started eating. The silence ruined me most.

"Do you need anything?" I asked, hoping for some conversation. "Does it taste alright?"

"It's good," he assured me quietly, through a mouthful. "Maybe some salt, though."

The salt shaker was closer to my end, so I stood and grabbed it to pass it to him. He took it from me without a word, and started sprinkling it over his food. Then he dug in again hungrily.

I looked down at my plate of food. Suddenly, I didn't feel very hungry. I felt... sick to my stomach. Maybe it was just nerves, though? I hoped that was only it. But when I forced myself to get through the first mouthful, my appetite came back to me. It was delicious, if I do say so myself. I would have made Gran proud.

We ate silently until I couldn't take the clanging and scraping of the silverware any longer. "How was work today?"

"Fine," Eric simply said curtly, with a shrug. He didn't look up from his plate.

I stared at his blonde hair for several moments, wondering if it was still as soft as I remembered. It had been too long since I last ran my fingers through his hair.

"This is new," Eric commented, pointing his fork at the table. His eyes never met mine.

I shrugged and said, "I just wanted to do something special. It's been a while since we've actually had dinner at the table, rather than in the living room in front of the television."

He paused from eating and looked up, but his eyes didn't meet mine. He stared at the centre of my forehead, as he often did. "Why?"

I laughed nervously. "Can't I do something nice for you without there having to be a reason for it?"

He considered that for a moment, shrugged, then got back into eating hungrily. "I suppose," he said, after swallowing, "But normally you want something if you do this type of thing."

I frowned deeply and bit on the tip of my tongue to refrain from saying something spiteful back at him. _I am a grown ass woman, and I can do whatever the hell I want whenever the hell I feel like doing it. I don't need your permission and it doesn't mean I'm wanting something from you, Mr Northman._

"I don't want anything," I mumbled, staring down at my food. I couldn't eat any longer. First plan of doing something nice: Failed.

"Well, good," he said, and he picked up his wine glass.

I swear sometimes he just tempts me with this shit to get a rise out of me. I gripped the handle of my fork so tightly that my hand began to shake. Stabbing into my meatball before I stabbed him, I hastily got back into eating the rest of my meal in simmering silence. When he was finished eating, Eric shoved his plate away loudly and grabbed his wine again. He gulped it all down in one entire mouthful. "Well, since I've finished, can I go into the living room and watch the television?"

Uh-huh. So this was going to be like most nights. Well, over my dead body.

"No," I said quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, _no_, you _can't_," I told him, a little more forcefully. "I've slaved away, making a good meal for you. So you can keep your ass there in that seat and wait until I've finished. And maybe you can try talking to me, while you're at it. Or don't you remember how to with me anymore?"

He raised his eyebrows at my tantrum and sat back in the chair, intertwining his fingers as he rested them on the table in front of him in a businesslike manner. "Do you care to explain to me what this is all really about?"

I had to swallow down the despair that rose up in my throat. I will not cry in front of him. I will not cry! "I just told you that I wanted to do something nice. The least you can do is sit with me and wait until I at least finish my own damn supper." I reached out and grabbed my glass of wine, repeating what he did in draining it all down. "I just wanted to do something nice for you. There doesn't have to be any rhyme or reason, does there? I just wanted to make my husband happy for once." Standing quickly, I grabbed my plate and walked over to collect his. He just stared down at his hands, flexing them into fists. I rinsed our plates out in the sink, grabbed the wine bottle, and strolled back into the dining room. "More?" I asked, while filling up my own glass generously over the rim.

He nodded silently as I took his glass and filled it up to the top. I almost had the very satisfying urge to chuck the wine all over him, but I stopped myself in the nick of time. He nodded his thanks as I sat back down in my chair. I held the glass to my lips, staring at him. I wished he would say something for once, actually talk to me, show me he cared about how my day was. As I was taking a sip, the most unexpected thing came out of his mouth. I almost choked.

"How was your day?" he questioned me. I couldn't even remember the last time he actually bothered to ask me that.

"It was, uh, fine," I managed through the shock.

Eric made a low grunting noise and took a sip from his own glass. Maybe it was the wine but more surprising words spilled out of my husband's mouth. "The dinner was great. Thank you."

"You're very welcome," I said without hesitation. I hardly ever get compliments from him anymore and, if I do, I hold onto them like they're worth a million dollars.

He stood quickly, tucked in his chair, and walked out of the room with his wine glass. Before he got to his office door that was connected to the dining room, he turned back slowly and asked, "Would you mind if you left me some to take to work tomorrow?"

I looked at him and smiled slowly. "No, I'd love to."

He tried to smile, but it didn't show up as well as it could have, and he just turned and slipped into his office where he hung out most of the night, before coming to bed. Either he was watching the television, or he was in his office, doing heaven knows what. When we got married and we first moved into this house together, we had agreed to have our own rooms to ourselves to unwind. Mine was the spare room upstairs, which we had turned into a nursery. We had tried for a baby, too, for a while there, but it just didn't happen for us.

With a depressed sigh, I stood up and blew out the candles before heading over to the sink to do the dishes. After everything was cleaned up, I put the rest of the leftovers in a container for him in the fridge, with a post-it that said: _Your lunch, from your wife_ where he could see it. Tonight had been a little bit of an improvement for us, I couldn't deny that. We had managed to hold a small and decent amount of conversation, which was better than nothing. There was still a lot we could have improved on, though.

I got upstairs and pulled off my dress. Pam had suggested wearing lingerie to bed, but I wasn't really feeling in the mood. Eric clearly didn't think I was sexy anymore. It was as if he hardly noticed I was wearing it. I was just pulling my hair out from its bun and pulling back the covers when Eric came in. My heart still pattered whenever I noticed his presence, even though we don't talk and are like strangers half of the time. I often wondered how we got here, we used to be so close- so what happened? I often gave up on wondering, because it was fruitless to do so.

I heard him unfastening his trousers to the left of me and, I couldn't help it, for the life of me. I watched as he slid out of them. Eric always had the longest pair of legs, real muscular and toned. I had always loved them, just as I had loved his ass. He was wearing grey boxer briefs, real tight that you could see the bulge. I still felt that rush of sexual attraction, no matter how much of a shithead he was to me. He undid his shirt next and I had a great time watching that, as well. He was toned and his forearms were muscular, and he had a small smattering of hair on his chest. I missed sex with him so badly. Most of all, I missed the closeness with him. The cuddling, the kisses. The smiles and fun. It had been so long since I last heard him laugh at anything I was telling him. That was probably because I didn't bother with jokes anymore.

"I'm going to jump in the shower," he told me, without sending a glance my way.

"All righty then."

I watched him as he padded off down the hallway in his socks and briefs, feeling lusty.

I bit my lip as I peered down at the empty double bed. It sure looked warm and comfortable inside, but Pam had also told me that in order to bring the spark back, sometimes it took spontaneity and unexpected surprises. I could hear the water plunging in the shower as I walked out of the room towards the bathroom. I stood by the door, dithering in all my indecision.

Should I go in? Should I go all-out and risk it by hopping into the shower with him?

Thinking to hell with it, I pulled open the bathroom door quietly and slipped inside. The room was all misty and foggy with steam. Eric had always enjoyed his showers extra hot. His towel was strewn out across the floor, and I tramped over it with my bare feet as I approached the shower curtain. So many times I had laid awake in bed, wishing our marriage would magically fix itself. I realized now that that was just not the case. I had to do something dramatic, something unexpected to show Eric what I wanted, what I was missing. Eric wasn't a mind reader, after all. He probably didn't have two wits about what I wanted and what I was desiring, if I never told him straightforwardly.

Peeling off my bra and stepping out of my underwear, I yanked back the curtain and stepped in.

Eric had his head turned up to the torrent of water cascading through the showerhead, so he didn't notice until I made myself known by clearing my throat gently. He turned to look at me with some surprise. It had been so long since I had seen him fully naked, and I enjoyed the sight all over again. His diaphragm moved as he swallowed loudly, taking my bare body in with widened eyes. It had been a very long time since he had seen me naked, too.

"You want to take a shower, too?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"I do," I said in a disgracefully breathy voice.

"Well, I'm done now." He passed the shampoo bottle over to me, stepped out of the shower, and grabbed his towel, leaving me all alone. My heart clenched and I felt tears prickle up in my eyes. _What the fuck?_

**_Hope you would be interested in more and hope you don't mind an all-human marriage fic. Feel free to let me know your thoughts :-) I am new to writing fanfiction so I hope I'm doing it okay. _**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all so much for your response to this story. Hope you enjoy this one. :-)**

**Save My Marriage**

I felt as if someone had just whacked me over the head with a frying pan as I stood there underneath the streaming spray of the shower head. I also felt a lot of rejection and hurt bubbling away inside painfully. I tried to seduce my husband in the shower and what did he do? He just got out and walked away! I never realized I was that unlovable to him. Maybe he didn't love me anymore as much as I thought he had.

Turning off the shower, I got out and towel-dried my hair. When I got back into the bedroom Eric was already under the covers. He watched me wordlessly as I threw back the covers and hopped in.

"Goodnight, Sookie," he said softly. I didn't respond, I was too hurt. Then he turned on his side with his back towards me.

I shut off the lamp, turning my back on him as well. This was... usual for us now unfortunately. We never cuddled in bed anymore. I closed my eyes and tried to relax but I couldn't. I was still upset and in a deep shock over what had happened in the shower with him minutes ago. It certainly hadn't turned out the way I had expected. It only confirmed my worst fears: We were in trouble. Our marriage was in deep trouble, and not even doing something unexpected and naughty could salvage it. Moments later I heard the alarm clock on Eric's nightstand beep as he prepared the time to get up in the morning at his usual 5 a.m wake-up, then he settled back into his normal sleeping position with his back facing me and a space between us that felt cold as ice.

I wasn't really sure whether I slept or not, because my mind wouldn't stop rolling.

What had I done that has caused Eric to treat me so distantly and cold?

What have I done that caused him to be turned-off me?

When I heard Eric snoring softly beside me, it was then I allowed the tears to fall, silently, secretly.

* * *

The next morning his alarm woke us both up, although I pretended to be asleep for a good bit there. I often did that to avoid any conflict or awkwardness between us. I felt the bed jostle underneath me as the alarm clock's peeping ceased. I heard my husband get out of bed, groaning tiredly, and once I heard the bedroom door open and him walking to the bathroom, I sat up in bed. My eyes felt grainy and heavy, but I forced them to stay open.

I got up, slipped my robe over me to keep myself warm, made the bed, and padded my way down the hallway. The bathroom door was still open and Eric was standing over the toilet seat peeing, his butt cheeks facing my direction. He often slept in bed naked, so it was hardly a surprise that he was naked as a jaybird peeing. It just made me feel all lusty and sad about our issues all over again.

I managed to make it downstairs without him noticing me, and I decided to make him breakfast for once.

I made some fresh coffee in the pot and cooked some pancakes and scrambled eggs. Eric hasn't had a good breakfast in a while, and a man can only live on so many hot pockets before they start going straight to his butt. Eric took a while getting changed, as he liked to, so when I heard him coming down the stairs everything was already set out on the table like a buffet. The only thing left to do was fill a mug up with coffee, so I got started while I heard him coming into the kitchen. I glanced at him over my shoulder. He paused by the doorway, fixing his blue tie around the collar of his shirt. I didn't say a word as I grabbed his mug and sat it near his plate of hot breakfast. He was still frozen by the door way. Shocked and confused, I presume. I grinned at his reaction, feeling pathetically proud of myself.

"Sit and enjoy," I told him breathlessly.

He stood for a moment by the chair, looping his gun holster around his trousers. I went over to the fridge, pulled out his lunch, and sat it on the table so that he'd remember to take it with him. When he was sitting, I crossed back to him.

"Have a good day at work," I told him, with a slow smile, and then upstairs I went.

Yep, that should do it... get him really confused and frazzled.

I had only just gotten back into bed when I heard his feet pounding up the stairs. He walked into the bedroom and just with the way he was walking, I could tell he wasn't in a very good mood. He sat down on the bed across from me, and covered his hands over his face. This wasn't the reaction I was expecting from the nice breakfast at all. "You think I don't know what the fuck you're up to?" he muttered quietly into his hands. "The whole making me my favourite dinner last night, the wine... and now, the breakfast. Aren't you buttering me up before you drop the bombshell?"

I stared at the back of his head for several long moments. "Bombshell? What bombshell?"

He raised his head from his hands and shifted on the mattress to look at me, finally look me directly in the eyes for once. "You want a divorce, don't you?"

I was flabbergasted. Out of everything I had done for him, that was the reason he came up with?

"Eric, I don't-"

"Don't lie to me!" Without warning, Eric pounded his fist down onto the mattress, making me jump, and he stood so abruptly from the bed that he almost knocked the nightstand over. Wow, he was mad. Really, really mad. That made me feel slightly better to know had I ever wanted a divorce he still felt strongly on the subject. "Why all this weirdness suddenly from you, Sookie?"

"Eric, I'm not doing this because I want a divorce," I managed in a choked voice. "A divorce is far from what I'm wanting from you, believe me!"

"Then what do you want from me, Sookie? What?"

I scrubbed my hands over my face, unsure of where to even begin. _What did I want from him? Just for him to open up to me again, like he used to. For us to be happy again. For him to actually try to have a decent conversation with me, show me a sign that he still cared for me. _Too bad it wasn't so easy to put it into words for him.

"What do you actually want from me?" He shouted, louder this time. "Just tell me!"

I was trembling so hard in all my effort not to break down and cry. "Can't you hear me?" I asked him weakly through my teeth. "I don't want anything from you. I'm not doing any of this because I have some ulterior motive to get something from you. This is about me trying to fix us by putting in a little effort!"

"Fix us?" His eyes blazed with anger and he laughed under his breath in disbelief. "Fix us? What is it exactly that you feel is wrong here? Because, honestly, I can't see any problems here."

"Are you blind, Eric?" Now it was my turn to laugh bitterly. "How can you stand there and tell me there is nothing wrong here?"

"There isn't anything wrong! Everything is fine!"

"No, it isn't!" My voice shook on me, and I could feel myself coming _that close_ to tears. "You hardly look me in the eye anymore! You can't even stand looking at me, it's like I physically repulse you, like you can't even stand me being in the same room as you! Even last night... in the shower... you just walked away!"

"The shower isn't big enough for two people, Sookie," he said, working hard to keep his voice level and controlled. "You wanted a shower, so I thought I'd get out to give you some space!"

"Oh, right? So you were being considerate, were you?" I snapped, feeling even more hurt. "Well, I didn't go in there with the aim of getting clean. Having a shower was the very last thing I had in mind, while you were in there, too."

"Then what _the hell_ were you doing?"

_Jesus, did I really have to spell it out for him?_ Evidently I did. "I wanted to have some fun with you in there," I confessed tiredly. "If you haven't noticed, we've been lacking it for the past six months. Just tell me what I've done wrong here? What have I done that has caused you to turn away from me like this? Ease my mind, because I didn't sleep a wink last night due to your cold reaction to me in the shower. Aren't you attracted to me anymore?" Now that I had gotten started, I couldn't seem to stop. My mouth kept on running despairingly like a tap on full-blast, desperate for answers. "Is that why? You don't love me anymore? Am I that annoying to you that I constantly pester you every time we're so much in the same room together?"

He just stared at me wordlessly. It was pretty much the confirmation I needed.

In a way to escape him, I got up and marched out the bedroom towards the bathroom. The waterworks had started.

"Sookie," he called after me. "Is that what you think?" I heard his footsteps behind me as I walked hurriedly towards the bathroom. He was following me. Just what I needed, sarcasm fully intended. Quickly, I whirled around and locked the bathroom door on him. "Sookie!" He pounded on the door with his hand. "Sookie, open the fucking door, will you?"

"Go away, Eric!"

"I'm not going anywhere until you open the door!"

"Fine, then. You're not gonna make it to work then at this point, because I'm not opening it anytime soon!"

"Sookie, please." He pounded on the door again roughly. "Do you want me to break down the fucking door? Because I will, if that's what it takes. Do you want me to do that?"

Oh, bother. I knew Eric was mad enough to actually do it.

Wiping my eyes quickly, I unlocked the door to find Eric leaning against the wall opposite the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked moody and petulant. I stride past him without a single word, rushing into the bedroom again. Of course, he followed me.

"Is that really what you think this is all about? That I don't love you anymore?"

"Yeah, it pretty much is," I muttered sullenly. I started searching around in the wardrobe for a clean uniform shirt to wear to Merlotte's. "You've given me no indication otherwise that you still love me on some level." Finding my shirt, I work my very hardest into ignoring him as I fling it on. I caught sight of him in the corner of my eye, standing around motionless, watching me. I still refused to give him my attention as I grabbed my work shorts and a clean pair of underwear and some socks. I stripped out of my underwear and slid into the clean ones, beyond all embarrassment in showing my naked hoochie to him in the process.

"Can you stop fucking ignoring me and actually talk to me?"

"Why should I? You do the exact thing to me all the time! Why should I treat you any different? Maybe you'll learn how it feels for once..."

I pulled on my shorts, gathered my trainers, and sat on the edge of the bed to put them on. I spared one glance at him, finding Eric still standing there in the same spot, watching me. He looked almost helpless.

"I still love you," he spoke quietly through gritted teeth. "I've never stopped."

"Really?" I eyed him sceptically, pausing with the tying of my shoelaces. "Then why the cold shoulder? Why are you being so distant and aloof towards me? Normally, that isn't how you show somebody you still love them. Last night I fixed dinner for you, because I wanted to do something for the man I love, and yet, all you can assume is that I'm wanting something from you?"

"Well, how am I supposed to know what's going on here, Sookie? You haven't made me dinner in months and, suddenly, out-of-the-blue, I come home from work to find you've done exactly that. Can you really blame me for thinking that way?" His words were barely audible. "And then it's the same thing this morning. What the fuck are you trying to accomplish here?"

"I just want us to be happy again. I want our marriage to work."

"As do I!"

"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it then, don't you?" I grumbled disdainfully.

Eric looked like he had a million of things he wanted to shout at me with spite. But then he calmed himself down gradually by taking in a few deep, trembling breaths. He rubbed around his temples on his forehead with his fingers soothingly. "I wasn't aware you felt this way," he said slowly and quietly, after a beat. "I wasn't aware you felt upset, or that you felt I was rejecting you."

"That's exactly what you did last night in the shower, Eric. You rejected me!"

"I didn't know you would view it that way. If I had, I would have reacted a little differently to it."

"Well, I did. Do you have any idea how much that hurt me? I'm trying to make this work. I'm trying to make this how it was, _before_, but you keep shutting down and making it harder on me."

He swallowed loudly and took a slow step towards the bed. I guess he could see that I was far too drained to start lashing out at him at a close distance, so he judged it was perfectly alright to sit beside me. He sat and interlaced his fingers in his lap, staring down at his hands. "How the hell am I supposed to know what's going on?" He asked me quietly. "Work has been extremely stressful. I suppose, at the end of the day, I just want to come straight home and just unwind. I don't want to unload my shit onto you by talking about it. I thought I was doing you a favour."

"But that's the problem. I want to hear about your day. I want you to actually talk to me, like you should, because I'm your wife. Not outright sit there and ignore me!"

He sighed loudly and stretched out the fingers on his left hand. He started fiddling with the gold band of his wedding ring absent-mindedly. "I just don't see how me talking about anything is going to solve it."

"It doesn't matter," I told him sharply. "I still want to hear about your day and, at least help to attempt to ease your mind. Because that's what I'm here for."

"Do you remember that broadcasted drug bust that was on live television? The one where one of the perpetrators got injured, Sookie? They said he was being treated in hospital with life-threatening injuries over a gun-shot wound. Do you remember that?"

I felt my entire body lift. He was actually daring to talk to me. At true last we were making some form of progress.

And yep, I did in fact remember what he was asking me. A couple of months ago after a raid by the police, a young man about in his early twenties was gunned-down by a police officer in the home where they made all the illegal drugs. I wasn't sure why Eric was bringing it up again, though.

"I do," I clarified gently. "What about it, though?"

He turned his eyes onto me grimly. "I was the one that shot him."

Oh, okay. It took me a moment to process that. "It was you? You were the one?"

"I was, yes," he confirmed quietly, with a bleak edge to his voice. "We weren't sure whether he was armed or not when we raided the house. I wasn't thinking, so I just... shot him. He died due to liver complications because the bullet punctured him."

I sighed sadly and lifted my arm closest to him to rub my hand over his shoulder, hopefully in a comforting way to him.

"Now, I don't know how it happened, but the people who run the organization he was involved with have tracked my name down. They know that I'm the one responsible for being the cause of his death. Apparently he was a valued member, most likely one of their brothers. I keep getting these calls but the number is unknown so we can't trace it back to them."

"What kind of calls?" I asked him, horrified. Judging by the expression on his face, they weren't very good ones.

"Threatening ones, mostly."

"You should have told me," I whispered, my anger boiling again. "You shouldn't have kept it all to yourself."

"I didn't want you to have to worry."

"This has been going on in your mind for this long? All this worry and, yet, you'd prefer me to think it's me that's making you this way? I thought it was the baby issue coming up all over again. I was hoping we had made it past that by now."

"As I said, I didn't know you would view it that way. This is no reflection on you, as my wife. This has no reflection on how I feel about you. This is just my own personal shit I have to deal with."

**Hope you enjoyed this one? Boring? Interesting? Like to read more?**

**Hoping you're enjoying the story so far. Feel free to let me know, it really encourages me. :-)**


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